A Plot Twist
I started out my last post by stating that one of my goals for this blog was to always be honest and open about where we are in our adoption journey. That has not changed, although I have been struggling to find the words to start this entry. Hang on with me, this one may be a little more up and down than usual.
December is two days away. Christmas will be here in under a month. My plans for this month were to push the book hard, everywhere we could. We also have Christmas cards that need to be marketed, and I annually do a Christmas concert at a little country church nearby that is on the National Historic Registry which has become one of my favorite places to sing. I intended to sing my way through this month and raise adoption dollars from generous folks who like to give to charitable causes at Christmas. Thus were my plans.
As it turns out, life has taken a different twist. My December calendar now revolves around two dates, Christmas, of course, and December 6, the date I am scheduled for surgery. The mass I referred to in my last post is not a cyst. It is solid, on my thyroid, about the size of a walnut, and has to come out. It's not optional.
While I am not afraid of the surgery or my overall health, I am also not thrilled about this development. I am, frankly, frustrated, emotional, and sometimes angry about it. I have been informed that the nerve that controls my vocal cords runs right up the back of the thyroid. After surgery, I will be hoarse for a few days, or possibly a few weeks, months, or even a lifetime. I am not expecting the worst, but it does appear that I am going to be toned down for a while and will need time to rest, recover, and get my voice back to full strength. None of those things appeal to me!
At the same time, I am blessed beyond measure with people who have told me I am in their prayers and offered to come help in various ways. I have met people who have been down this road before, I've been given pep talks and success stories of people who have come through thyroid surgery back to full health. I am grateful to live in a century where medical doctors have precise surgical instruments and can do amazing things. I am grateful to have a diagnosis instead of just a mystery problem, and to be on the way to being rid of this discomfort.
I have filled the last couple of weeks with distractions, preparing for surgery, readying the house for Christmas, and thinking about anything other than December 6. I have worn myself out planning details, celebrating Thanksgiving, and doing all the usual Shelton activities. My new routine is to wake up with butterflies in my stomach, and begin to sing praise choruses or carols until my soul centers itself again and I feel at peace. I'm reading a lot of scripture and saying a lot of prayers.
The song that repeatedly runs through my head, and has ever since we accepted the call to adopt is:
My only hope is you, Jesus.
My only hope is you.
From early in the morning to late at night
My only hope is you.
My only peace is you, Jesus.
My only peace is you.
From early in the morning to late at night,
My only peace is you.
All that I need is you, Jesus.
All that I need is you.
From early in the morning to late at night
All that I need is you.
This song, although not a carol, reminds me of the true meaning of Christmas, and the reasons we celebrate in December, as described in these passages from isaiah 9:
2 The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned.
. . .
6 For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
7 Of the greatness of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the Lord Almighty
will accomplish this.
This month, I am turning over control to the one who sits on David's throne. I am asking the Wonderful Counselor to speak words of comfort to my soul, and the Prince of Peace to reign supreme in my heart and in our home. I will lay down my preconceived December notions and trust in Mighty God to provide, heal, and sustain. I will let God be God and the Everlasting Father be the head of the Shelton saga. I will let him worry about fundraising and trust that he'll take this unexpected plot twist and weave it into a beautiful story we will one day tell our daughter.
I will sing praise with my heart, soul, mind and strength, before and after surgery.
"Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her king!"
"Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men on whom His Favor rests."
And in my moments of weakness, I will pray the words of another Christmas song I learned as a child:
"Be near me, Lord Jesus
I ask thee to stay
Close by me forever
And love me, I pray.
Bless all the dear children
In Thy tender care.
And fit us for Heaven
To live with thee there."
December is two days away. Christmas will be here in under a month. My plans for this month were to push the book hard, everywhere we could. We also have Christmas cards that need to be marketed, and I annually do a Christmas concert at a little country church nearby that is on the National Historic Registry which has become one of my favorite places to sing. I intended to sing my way through this month and raise adoption dollars from generous folks who like to give to charitable causes at Christmas. Thus were my plans.
As it turns out, life has taken a different twist. My December calendar now revolves around two dates, Christmas, of course, and December 6, the date I am scheduled for surgery. The mass I referred to in my last post is not a cyst. It is solid, on my thyroid, about the size of a walnut, and has to come out. It's not optional.
While I am not afraid of the surgery or my overall health, I am also not thrilled about this development. I am, frankly, frustrated, emotional, and sometimes angry about it. I have been informed that the nerve that controls my vocal cords runs right up the back of the thyroid. After surgery, I will be hoarse for a few days, or possibly a few weeks, months, or even a lifetime. I am not expecting the worst, but it does appear that I am going to be toned down for a while and will need time to rest, recover, and get my voice back to full strength. None of those things appeal to me!
At the same time, I am blessed beyond measure with people who have told me I am in their prayers and offered to come help in various ways. I have met people who have been down this road before, I've been given pep talks and success stories of people who have come through thyroid surgery back to full health. I am grateful to live in a century where medical doctors have precise surgical instruments and can do amazing things. I am grateful to have a diagnosis instead of just a mystery problem, and to be on the way to being rid of this discomfort.
I have filled the last couple of weeks with distractions, preparing for surgery, readying the house for Christmas, and thinking about anything other than December 6. I have worn myself out planning details, celebrating Thanksgiving, and doing all the usual Shelton activities. My new routine is to wake up with butterflies in my stomach, and begin to sing praise choruses or carols until my soul centers itself again and I feel at peace. I'm reading a lot of scripture and saying a lot of prayers.
The song that repeatedly runs through my head, and has ever since we accepted the call to adopt is:
My only hope is you, Jesus.
My only hope is you.
From early in the morning to late at night
My only hope is you.
My only peace is you, Jesus.
My only peace is you.
From early in the morning to late at night,
My only peace is you.
All that I need is you, Jesus.
All that I need is you.
From early in the morning to late at night
All that I need is you.
This song, although not a carol, reminds me of the true meaning of Christmas, and the reasons we celebrate in December, as described in these passages from isaiah 9:
2 The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned.
. . .
6 For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
7 Of the greatness of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the Lord Almighty
will accomplish this.
This month, I am turning over control to the one who sits on David's throne. I am asking the Wonderful Counselor to speak words of comfort to my soul, and the Prince of Peace to reign supreme in my heart and in our home. I will lay down my preconceived December notions and trust in Mighty God to provide, heal, and sustain. I will let God be God and the Everlasting Father be the head of the Shelton saga. I will let him worry about fundraising and trust that he'll take this unexpected plot twist and weave it into a beautiful story we will one day tell our daughter.
I will sing praise with my heart, soul, mind and strength, before and after surgery.
"Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her king!"
"Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men on whom His Favor rests."
And in my moments of weakness, I will pray the words of another Christmas song I learned as a child:
"Be near me, Lord Jesus
I ask thee to stay
Close by me forever
And love me, I pray.
Bless all the dear children
In Thy tender care.
And fit us for Heaven
To live with thee there."
And, since you can't talk, you can help me write a Christmas Eve program! ;)
ReplyDeleteYes, I know. I am so helpful.